On Our Way
by Sparky Weedwhacker
Summary: Arc 1 of 2. Dethklok throws a party to celebrate their newest member. One small move can change your life. Whose last move will it be tonight?
1. Someone's Got Your Back

Basically, I watched Fertilityklok and decided I had to make a happy little romance based around Toki because JadedSlut!Toki makes me sad. But since I'm incapable of writing anything that isn't angst or porn, we're going to see how this goes.

 **Disclaimer:** Are these even needed? Eh, I'll included it anyway. Metalocalypse belongs to a bunch of people who are not me. I am making zero money for this act of literary masochism. I will, how ever, accept bribes of cash, various recreational substances, and vinyl copies of Slayer albums. I'm not saying you're going to get anything in return for them, just that I'll take them :p

 **Author's Note:** Life feels hopeless. To cheer myself up, I've been writing this fan fic. When you feel fucking miserable, do something that makes you happy. Your life may still continue to be shit, but the relief you can give yourself is invaluable.

The prologue to Morte Lumina is only going to be two chapters, but I decided to make it its own thing.

Oh, and if you're not already supporting #MetalocalypseNow then get your buns over to the petition and sign it!

* * *

 **CH I: Someone's Got Your Back**

 **Old Mordhous, six months before the first record drops**

"Who ams these peoples?" Toki asked. Skwisgaar shoved a warm bottle of beer into his hand before taking a pull off of one himself.

"Some peoples ams from bands whats wes playeds with, members of the bands they plays now, wanna be promotors, sluts whats we knows from bars, sluts we knows from shows, sluts we finds at grocery stores..." Skwisgaar waved to a woman that had to be at least fifty, but was dressed like she was twenty. The lady bent over the beer keg purposefully, intent on giving them a show. Toki took one look at the thong barely concealed by her low rise jeans and gagged.

"Why they _here_ , Skwisgaar?" Toki asked, looking down at the beer in his hand. His parents had never allowed alcohol outside of sacraments. Just holding it gave him a rebellious thrill, but he didn't have the courage to take a sip yet.

"For yous!" Skwisgaar clapped him on the back. "You can'ts have parties withouts people! And tonights, we celebrates our new rhythms guitarist."

Honestly, Toki would have liked to just hang out with the guys and play. Get to know them a little better, you know? But only Skwisgaar had stayed by his side. The others had scattered as soon as the festivities began.

Murderface sat on the couch, his arm around a jowly goth chick with so much black eyeliner on that her eyes looked like empty sockets. She was bored to tears, but when he whispered something to her, the corner of her mouth twitched. "Ha, there it was! Don't deny it, I saw it! I told you I could make you smile!" She turned her face away from him, fighting to keep her mouth turned down in a frown.

"You're such a poser!" She protested.

He grinned, nuzzling her neck. "I'll say. You got me "posing" right now..."

Nathan stood at the center of a small circle of party goers, racing against a platinum blonde to see which one of them could chug their bottle of whiskey the fastest. Spectators raised their arms in triumph as they cheered Nathan's victory. After wiping her mouth with the back of an arm, the woman threw her bottle down at Nathan's feet in bitter defeat. He growled fiercely in retaliation, and threw her over his shoulder like a caveman. She shrieked and beat at his back with clenched fists. At first Toki thought she was frightened, but then she belched and began laughing heartily as Nathan hauled her into the bedroom he shared with Pickles.

Another bottle broke somewhere to his right. Toki turned to look. He was vaguely aware of a guy in full corpse paint throwing a dish towel down into a mess of beer and broken glass, but his attention was drawn elsewhere. A girl was laying on the counter separating the kitchenette and the living room. She was in nothing but her lacy pink underwear, giggling as Pickles sucked tequila out of her belly button.

Toki felt an immediate jump bellow his belt. He quickly took his cap off his head and held it in front of his crotch. The one time he took off his fanny pack was the one time he needed it the most! When he turned back to Skwisgaar, the Swede was smiling down at him knowingly. Ugh, damn him. Toki's face felt hot with embarrassment; ignoring Skwisgaar's scrutiny, he began studying his beer bottle as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"You wants to have funs with the ladies too?" Skwisgaar asked. The answer would never be anything but "YES!" but Toki continued contemplating his bottle, too humiliated to speak. "Yous a virgin." It was a statement rather than a question. Skwisgaar hooked an arm around his shoulders. "Sweet kids likes you, I ams nots so surprised. I tell you something; yous rocks star. You sees somethings you wants, yous takes it."

"I ams sos very happies to be in band, but... I dos nots feel likes the rocks star... we not exactly in Mabikson Squirrel Gardens..." he gestured with the hand holding his beer around the dilapidated apartment, with the pulled up sections of rug, piss stains, and gratified curse words and pentagrams on the walls.

"You ams special, Tokis." Skwisgaar said. "I know it, band knows it, sluts know it. Where you ams nots importants as whos you ams. _You ams rocks star._ "

Skwisgaar possessed little patience. Sometimes he was so fickle and irritable that Toki wondered how the elder guitarist could be the same person that invited him into the band. Toki knew Skwisgaar would never say something to be comforting; that would be too "pussy girlies touchy feelies". He would only say something like that if he thought it was cold fact. It was humbling to think that someone so cool and talented like Skwisgaar could have such faith in him. Even if he was kind of a dildo.

"But," Skwisgaar continued, "yous likes baby birds that must becomes proud eagles. I must push yous out of nests and gives lessons in flight." Skwisgaar made a sweeping gesture across the room. "What goil would yous like?"

Toki pouted, rubbing his chin. "Thats one?" The lady had legs for miles, and boobs as big as basketballs.

"That lady profeskional domatrucks. She, uh, she might be too much for first time..." Skwisgaar winced. "She fun, but not gentle touch."

"Well thens, how abouts that ones?" Toki pointed to a girl with pigtails and ass-less chaps.

"I wants thats one."

"That ones?" Toki pointed to a raven haired girl doing a keg stand. Skwisgaar cringed.

"You know, maybes for first times yous shouldn't picks someones so wilds..."

"That ones?" Toki pointed to a woman wearing a leather jacket and leather pants.

"Ughs, I fucks her once, five month later, so did Pickle. She give us both crabs. Not a goods times... Ah ha!" Skwisgaar pointed to a girl sitting on the end of the couch opposite of Murderface and the lady he was kissing on. A frizzy red head was bowed over a text book as she scribbled down notes. A backpack barely held together with duct tape sat open at the girls feet, a mess of papers and folders threatening to spill out.

The girl couldn't be much older than him. She was wearing a white, off the shoulders peasants blouse that was so sheer that he could make out her nipples (it was sort of cold in the apartment...). She sat with her legs curled under her as she leaned against the ripped arm of the couch, her tiny denim skirt just barely covering her backside.

"It not that she not very pretties. She just not... well...mature..." As Toki said this, she picked at her braces with the tip of her pencil as she read over a passage. No makeup concealed the pimples that doted her freckled face. "I wants a real womans. Not some kids."

"Tells mes, when was last times yous shaves?" Skwisgaar's obvious bemusement irritated Toki so much that his hair stood on end.

"I've...never shaves..." Toki admitted quietly, running a finger over his naked lip.

"She young, but that just means she not jaded yet, and easy to impress. Go offer to gets hers drink, tells her yous in bands. She be eatings out of your hands!" Skwisgaar pushed him forward. Toki stumbled, his beer spurting out of the neck of the bottle.

"Someone went off prematurely," Murderface lisped as Toki walked by. He was so nervous that he no longer needed to cover himself with his cap, and pulled it back over his head.

"Excuse mes, uh, miss?" At hearing his voice the girls expression went from neutral to stony. She did not look up from her book. "Miss? ... Miss? ... Miss? ... Excuse mes? ... Miss?"

"Is there something I can help you with?" When she looked up, the girl looked as if she _wanted_ to fix him with a nasty glare, but she came off more worried than angry. It was the eyebrows. They should have been down instead of up. What was it Skwisgaar said to do? Oh yeah!

"Can I gets you drink?" He asked.

"Warning sign number one..." She whispered.

"What?" Toki asked.

Despite her muttering, she actually seemed to contemplate his question. "Is there anything to drink around here other than alcohol?" There was a flicker of hope in her soft, sea green eyes.

"Wells... we have beers, lots of beers, and wes haves somes tequila and whiskies... both sinks ams broken so there no water unless we get from toilet, so... uh... no."

"Then no," the girl sighed. "I'm good. Thank you."

"I ams in bands. Just joineds. My bandmates, they throws me this parties to celebrates. They the best pals I ever had." Toki cringed at his less than smooth delivery.

"Warning sign number two..." she said under her breath. "You're in a band? So is, like, ninety percent of the people here." Her gaze returned to her book. Toki looked over his shoulder at Skwisgaar. Pickles had replaced Toki at his side, and together they were watching his struggle, smirking at one another.

He felt weighted down by his shame as he trudged back to them.

"Whats yous doings?!" Skwsigaar laughed. "Get backs theres!"

"I can'ts dos it. I don't thinks she's interesteds..." Toki couldn't meet either men's eyes.

"You have to _make_ her interested!" Pickles insisted. "You have to make girls feel special. Break the ice with some questions about her, make her think you actually give a fuck. After that, tell her she has pretty eyes. Maybe offer to pull out your guitar and play something."

"Toki, she ams already yours, you just donuts knows it yets!" Skwisgaar ruffled the top of his cap. "Now goes! Don't lets us downs!" Though he smiled, there was a hardness to his eyes. Toki could practically hear Skwisgaar's patience with him thinning.

The girl was already looking at him as he walked up to her. He swallowed. He turned to walk away, but Skwisgaar and Pickles were both smiling, giving him the thumbs up. He whimpered, turning back to the girl.

"Can I sits heres?" He asked. The girl shrugged.

"It's not my apartment. Who am I to tell you were to sit?" Well...it wasn't a no... Toki sank down on the cushion beside her.

"I ams Toki. What ams yours name be?"

She gave him a sidelong glance. "Jessica Rabbit."

"It um, it nice to meet yous Jessica..." When she realized he thought she was serious, she couldn't keep back the incredulous laugh. Toki wondered what was so funny, but decided against asking. "So, uh, what brings yous to party?"

"My dad. He wants to get wasted, so I'm his designated driver." The girl erased something she had been writing and started over again. "I'm not even sure if he's invited, though."

Toki rolled the beer bottle between his hands. He fumbled. It dropped to the floor and rolled away, trailing beer in its wake. Even though he was certain she saw, she didn't tease him. "You, uhs, yous having funs?"

"Not really..." she replied tartly. "Sorry, I'm just trying to work here... it's hard to concentrate and talk..."

"What's yous readings about?" Toki scooted closer, peeping over her shoulder. There was a picture of a monk, standing in a garden. "The Inquisition?"

"That's Gregor Mendel," she laughed. "I'm studying biology. It's kinda boring, but it's kinda necessary for the veterinarian program I want to get into when I graduate." Her smile was soft and welcoming, not sneering. This was working! He was actually getting somewhere! What else was it that Pickles said to do?

"You knows, yous haves really pretties eyes." At hearing this, her smile dimmed.

"And that's warning sign number three..." The girl leaned to peer around Toki at Skwisgaar and Pickles who, rather than pretend they weren't watching, waved at her. "I feel weird with your friends looking at us like that. Can we go somewhere private to talk?"

Toki had thought he blew it somehow with the comment about her eyes, but apparently he hadn't! "Sure! We cans goes to the, uh, the bedrooms if you like!"

"It sounds like a date." She slipped her text book into her backpack and zipped it up. She stood, hooking the battered bag over her shoulder. "Lead the way." Toki took her hand, practically skipping as they made their way through the milling party goers. Pickles whooped, and Skwisgaar shouted, "You ams rocks star!" like they were a couple of proud soccer moms.

* * *

He lead her down the short hall, passed Nathan and Pickles room. From the shrill female moans escaping the thin walls it wasn't hard to guess what Nathan and that blonde woman were getting up to. As they walked by the bathroom, some guy was telling (presumably) a chick to "Suck it, yeah, suck it like that," making Jessica visibly tense.

"Gross," she growled.

Toki pushed open the door to the room he shared with Skwisgaar and Murderface and ushered her inside. When the door closed, the voices in the living room and kitchenette turned to vaguely softer murmurs.

Only Skwisgaar's bed had a frame. Him and Murderface were sleeping on mattresses on the floor. Before he could point to his sleeping bag, the girl dropped her backpack on Skwisgaar's bed and sat down.

Toki felt too embarrassed to tell her, _no, we're going to hump on the floor._

How mad would Skwisgaar be if they humped in his bed?

"We're not going to do it. Have, um, sex I mean..." Jessica said, her gaze lowering to her hands clasped in her lap. "But I bet if I turned you down out there, your buddies would keep sending you back, trying to get you to wear me down." Her brow furrowed. "I guess Mr. Pickles doesn't recognized me..."

"They probably would..." Toki admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously at this new turn of events. She was turning him down! He was too worried about what Skwisgaar would say to think much of her comment about Pickles. He could practically hear the laughing and the taunts now... _you ams little babies fools! I must haves been mistakens, you ams_ not _rocks star!_

"I don't wanna do it, you don't want your buddies to make fun of you for not getting into my pants. Since you seem like a sweet guy, I propose a compromise," Jessica unzipped her backpack, taking out her text book once more. "We hang out in this nice, quiet room for, lets say, half an hour while I concentrate on my biology homework. After, you can tell your buddies what a slut I am. Sound good?"

"You really, _really_ don't wants to humps?" he asked.

"I can't say I do..." She flipped back open to the page she had been referencing.

"But yous wearings that shirt, and that skirt..." She tensed as he sat down next to her, but he didn't notice, too busy running his hand over the sheets. Wow... they really did make a difference. Toki's bed was bumpy and smelled like armpit, but Skwisgaar's bed was smooth and smelled like fresh laundry.

"So?"

"You ams dressed kinda likes you wants to humps. I can sees thoughs the shirts when the lights hit you right," He tilted his head, but the string of lights Skwisgaar had taped in the crease where the ceiling met the wall kept the room twilit; the shirt's sheerness was less evident in the low lighting. "And your skirt so short and tights! I can see..." his gaze rose to her face; again she had that almost-glare that looked as fierce as a lost puppy, "...everything..."

She swallowed, leaning away from him. Her voice shook when she talked: "This skirt is so small because I've had it since I was sixteen. My dad doesn't take me clothes shopping very often. I knew the shirt was kinda snug too, but I didn't think you could see through it..." A blush was creeping down her face, down her neck, towards her chest. "Though that would explain why everyone's been talking to my chest today..."

"I've had these clothes since I was sixteens too..." Toki said, fidgeting with the holes in the knees of his pants. Pickles promised him that when the album dropped, he'd have money to get new clothes. "They don't fits too goods either."

"If you agree to my compromise, could you let me do my homework please? We can talk about what fashion disasters we are later." The words were snippy, but she sounded too frightened for him to feel cowed. Instead he felt...guilty, and confused. What did he do that scared her?

He slinked off to his corner and sat on the mattress. He almost gave up all hope until he remembered his guitar. He picked it up from where he propped it against the wall and unzipped it from its case. "Hey, woulds you likes me to maybes plays songs for yous?"

"Warning sign number four," she whispered, spreading her book and notes out in front of her.

"What ams these signs you keeps saying?" Toki plucked at his strings with his pick, making sure everything was in tune.

"This isn't the first time my dad has dragged me to a party," Jessica said. " _Occasionally_ people are friendly, and they just want to talk. But there are certain things every guy seems to say if they're trying to sleep with me. They ask to get me a drink," Toki cringed, "they tell me their profession if they think it sounds cool," Toki winced, "they compliment me on my eyes," he covered his own in embarrassment, "and, if they're in a band, they always offer to play a song." He carefully propped the guitar back against the wall. "Any time a guy talks to you at a party, you got to worry..." Jessica laughed nervously. "Not you _you_ , Toki, but I mean you _in general_. Though I suppose it might actually be something _you_ have to worry about, too. I'm sure you get hit on by guys all the time."

"Ick," Toki said. "No thanks, I likes the goils."

"That doesn't stop them from hitting on me," Jessica said. "I mean, I like guys as well as girls, but, well, you get my point, right? Guys don't care if you want them, only that they want you." She looked up from her book and noticed his blank stare. "...You don't get my point... I'm rambling, aren't I?" She whined in embarrassment, her gaze dropping back to her book. "Forget I said anything..."


	2. Black Love Goodbye

**Author's Note:** Ok, I lied, this is probably going to be three chapters. Fuck.

Oh, and if you're not already supporting #MetalocalypseNow then get your buns over to the petition and sign it!

* * *

 **CH II: Black Love Goodbye**

Toki tried to nap, but his attention was too focused on the girl laying on her stomach on Skwisgaar's bed. Every time she turned a page, his eyes would open. She may not have been the flashiest girl at the party, but she was still pretty enough that he felt like a hungry dog having a steak waved in front of its face.

Jessica broke the silence with: "So...um, is that a stuffed Deady Bear?"

Toki's eyes widened in horror. He turned his head; it was laying on the floor a foot from his face! "N-no!" He grabbed it quickly and shoved it under his pillow.

"Too bad. I like Deady Bear's Awesome Adventure Show too." She reached into her back pack and pulled out a folder. A picture of Deady Bear smiled back at him from its cover. "The next time you bring a girl in here, you might want to keep it out of sight. Kinda ruins your super macho image," she teased, sliding the folder back. "My dad says I'm too old to watch Deady Bear. He says there must be something wrong with me for liking kids shows." She frowned. "Maybe he'll stop making fun of me if I tell him you like it too. He thinks you guys are going to be big. He says anything Mr. Pickles touches turns to gold."

"You thinks I mights be famous rocks stars one days?" Toki asked.

"I dunno. Maybe." She shrugged. "Before you ask, that doesn't change my mind about... you know..."

They lapsed back into silence. He sighed, pulling his Deady Bear out from under his pillow. He looked into its shiny black eyes and saw his naked face reflected. Maybe he really _was_ a little baby fool... he hugged it to his chest.

"Cans I asks you questions?"

"Hang on..." she held up a hand, requesting silence. Just when he was beginning to think she was just pretending to be busy to avoid talking to him, she looked up. "Aaaand, done. You had a question?"

"Yous evers humps?" Again with that not-quite-glare. Her expression softened when she saw how tightly he was clutching Deady Bear. "I haven'ts and... well..." he sighed, defeated. "I'm kindsa disappointed yous say no, but I felts... reliefs too. I don't knows anythings. I don'ts even knows what naked ladies look like... I nevers ever seen naked boobs until watchings Total Recalls lasts night..."

She snorted. "You can't expect me to believe that. I used your bathroom. I saw the stack of magazines in there."

"They belongs to Murderface. They so gross looking, stained and crusty. Would _yous_ touch those?"

She cringed. "I can't say I would."

"I don't know what to dos. I means, I know my dicks is supposed to go in _something_ , and I knows it between ladies legs, but beyond that..." he pouted at the ceiling. "Cans you tells me something? Anythings? What ams it supposeds to bes like?"

She chewed her bottom lip as she worried over a particularly troublesome thought. "...I don't know what it's supposed to be like. But if you're really worried, I have something that might help you." She sat up to dig through her back pack. She pulled out a crumpled pamphlet, two shiny gold squares of foil, and a stapled handout that had seen better days. "Last week in health class we had sex-ed. You can have these, if you want." He rose from his mattress to take her offerings.

He looked down at the pamphlet. "I, um, I can'ts read English too goods yets. I don'ts knows whats this says. Cans you reads it to me?"

Blushing terribly, she grimaced. "You really don't need to be able to read for that one. It's just simple instructions on how to use a condom. There's picture in there that show you how to put one on."

"What ams condom?" Toki opened the pamphlet. His eyebrows rose towards his hair line when he saw the pictures. "Why woulds I puts ones of these ons my dicks?"

"Because if you don't you could get a girl pregnant, or get sick and die."

Toki laughed at her explanation. He tried to hand the pamphlet back. "Stork bring babies. And if humpings killed people, I thinks more peoples would be dead."

Looking very horrified, she asked him to sit next to her. He was excited by her invitation at first, but then she pulled open the stapled handout. "If you're pulling my leg, shame on you. But if you're not, it's my duty to at least try to teach you something."

If he had hoped for a hands on lesson, he was left disappointed. Pointing to diagrams and charts, she explained sperm, eggs, and pregnancy, before turning to the pages about venereal disease (complete with full color pictures). After, he shakily pocketed the pamphlet and squares of foil.

Just as he was starting to think that maybe this whole humpings thing was over rated, she turned the pages. "I think you already know about... what you have. So I'll go to, the, um, the section on...well... the..." The diagram she showed him looked like... well, he wasn't quite sure what it looked like. A sideways clam wearing a toupee? "Um... this is what naked ladies look like... _down there_... this is the, um... this is the..." She forced the word out as if it pained her: "Vulva."

Jessica turned the page. More full color photos. A symmetrical grid of different ladies, each photo centered on their...what did she call it...volvo. "Oh wowee..." The almost comical diagram was _nothing_ compared to these... Each of the ladies looked different; some ladies had big floppy lips, a few had teeny tiny little ones, and others had asymmetrical. He was sure one even had a _piercing_! His gaze fell to the hem of Jessica's barely there skirt. What did _she_ look like?

Uh oh...

He quickly took off his cap and put it in his lap.

He couldn't pretend she didn't notice with how hastily she turned back to the diagram, scooting over to put a couple of inches between them. His face and ears felt like they were on fire as he blushed. Oh God, why wouldn't it stay down?!

She reviewed the diagram, naming off the parts. "Clitorous?" He asked. "That sound more like type of dinosaur thans something lady should have. You makings this up."

"I am not," she insisted, her face just as red as his.

"Or evens like STD. You wears the condoms so yous don't comes downs with the chlamydia, the ghonoria, or the clitorous. Reallys, girls have worst sounding body parts names ever. Clitorous, volvo, labia... Theys sounds like things that should bite yous hand off or put yous in hopskittle, not goods time."

"You're just not used to those words. If you heard them all the time, you wouldn't think they sounded weird." She looked like she wanted to dig a hole and burry herself, but she troopered on. She tapped the black oval low on the diagram. "This last one is, um..." she was actually sweating from her awkward unease. "The...the vagina. That is where you stick your...your _weiner_..." she all but whispered the last word. "That's pretty much all I can tell you."

There was a knock at the door.

"Tokis? You ams done in there?" Skwisgaar rattled the door knob.

"Oh! Ah..." He looked to Jessica, wincing.

"I know this ams first times for yous, but other peoples needs to use the room!"

Jessica stood up on the bed and began to jump, the mattress squeaking under her feet.

"Ares...ares yous really fuckings on my beds?" Skwisgaar asked. "Whats the fucks, Tokis!"

"Tell him we're almost done!" Jessica whispered.

"Almost dones!" Toki yelled. "N-needs couples more minutes!"

"Ugh, fines!" Skwisgaar sneered. "But Toki, we have talks laters about respeckling other peoples properties!"

After he stomped away, Jessica fell heavily to her rear on the bed.

"Any questions?" she asked. After watching her jump up and down on the bed, his first thought was _Could yous do that again?_

He left this thought unspoken as he took the offered handout from her hands.

"So this whats the guys call pussy?"

"Yeah."

"Poon tang?"

"One in the same."

"Cunt?"

"...now you're just being gross on purpose!" She stuck out her tongue, her nose scrunching. "Ick!"

Her textbook had fallen to the floor when she jumped on the bed. She bent to pick it up, revealing a pink scar slashed across her back from one shoulder to the other. Curious, he reached out his hand to brush away her hair for a better look. He jerked back when she sat up. Her gaze on the book in her lap, she told him:

"Thank you for trying to hide your boner earlier rather than, you know, make me touch it." How sad she sounded sobered him. "I guess it's my fault. I wasn't exactly showing you pictures of kittens."

His brow furrowed in confusion and just a tiny bit of worry. "But...but you said yous don't wants to humps...whys would I tries to humps you after you say nos?"

She said, rather matter of factly: "I told you already. Some guys just don't care what you want." She shrugged it off as if it were as unfortunate and meaningless as a rain cloud. Something was wrong; the wheels in his head were turning, but before what she was talking about could click, Pickles began shouting.

"What THE FUCK are ya doin' here, Peter?!" the din of the party was silenced immediately under the ferocity of his demand. They could see nothing with the door closed, but they both turned toward his voice anyway.

"Just having some drinks and hanging out with our friends, brother." Came the reply, very close to the bedroom door. The man from the bathroom?

"Not yer fuckin' brother, asshole!"

Jessica was on her feet, shoving her things back into her backpack. "I guess my dad and I are leaving soon," she whispered, tugging the zipper closed. He reached for her hands and took them in his own.

"Deady Bear ams fucking cools," he said. "Only super awesome people likes the shows." Jessica laughed, her smile the best thing he saw all evening.

"GET OUT, YA BACKSTABBIN' SON OF A BITCH!" A bottle broke out in the living room. Jessica jumped and pulled away.

"Pickles— _God damn it_!"

" ** _GET OUT_**!" Pickles was close to screaming now; he sounded so girlish that Toki would have thought it comical if Jessica didn't look so frightened and pale, her fingers tight around the strap of her back pack as she slung it over her shoulder.

Pickles shouting and the man's protests, which were now growing in heat and volume themselves, seemed ancillary when Jessica cupped his cheek."Take care of yourself." She hesitated, shaking and red as a tomato, before she pressed her lips against his in a soft, chaste kiss that tasted like cherry chapstick. "Stay sweet, ok?"

He was too stunned to do more than gasp. The kiss was so quick that he was watching her backside walk away from him before he could think to respond. He quickly stumbled to his feet, his cap falling to the floor as he reached for her. "Jessica, wait!" Visions filled his head: sharing a pizza as they watched Deady Bear reruns. Going to see movies together. Doing more than kissing... none of that could happen if he didn't get her number.

The glaring light of the hall made him squint. There was no way they could have sneaked around the fight if they had tried. Every eye was on the small altercation happening between them and the rest of the apartment. Pickles had the man pressed up against the door to the bathroom, his fists bunched in the collar of his fishnet shirt. The man tossed his brassy-blond hair like a girl, his green eyes glaring down at Pickles.

Toki's hand fell on Jessica's shoulder as he caught up to her in the short hall. He froze, unable to decide if he should hide behind her or pull her back into the bedroom, away from danger.

Peter was almost as tall as Skwisgaar, and far more muscled. By the look he was giving Pickles, the only thing keeping him from smashing the drummer across the face with the bottle of Jim Beam in his hand was Nathan, who stood at his side in a hastily thrown on pair of jeans. Just his presence was enough to subdue the man.

"It's ok, Mr. Pickles," Jessica soothed sweetly, all too aware of the flaring tempers of both men as she approached. "We're leaving. Right, Daddy? We're going to go now?" The man had a spray tan and a botox forehead. His attempts to mimic youth seemed to make him look more like a Ken Doll than a twenty-something.

"Holy shit, Ginger Snap...that's you?" Pickles eyes widened as his gaze flitted between Jessica, her boobs, and the man he had pressed against the wall. Noticing how Pickles briefly oggled his daughter did nothing to ease his anger. "I told ya this when she was eight, I'll tell ya this now: you shoulda left her home. She doesn't need to see her old man gittin' wrecked." Pickles stepped back, releasing him with a shove. "Git da fuck out."

If Toki didn't ask her for her number now, there would be no getting it. But the air crackled with promised violence. He lost his voice, feeling helpless and small, his skin already stinging in anticipation of blows even though he knew he had done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve—

The man wanted an outlet for his anger, one that wouldn't fight back. Peter's gaze fell on Toki. His eyes flicked down to Toki's erection, wilting it with his glare. Toki felt shaky with relief when the man's attention fell on Jessica, but it was only temporary. Shame at this relief followed quickly after, and renewed fear; not for himself now, but her. Jessica was only a couple of inches shorter than Pickles, but looked tiny and waifish juxtaposed with this behemoth. Toki had been so focused on her boobs that it had somehow escaped him that she was just as much of a kid as he was.

"What were you doing in that bedroom?" He growled at Jessica.

"My homework," she said, wielding the truth as if it were a shield.

"Homework? With him?" Toki whimpered like a coward when the man pointed. "It didn't sound like homework." Someone in the crowd laughed. Toki mentally begged them to shut up because they were fanning the rage glowing in Peter's face. When Toki opened his mouth to say it wasn't what he thought, all that came out was a squeak.

"Daddy, lets just go home, ok?"

He gestured with the Jim Beam bottle. "Lead the way, chicklet."

Even though Peter followed Jessica obediently through the parting crowd towards the door, Toki knew boiling rage when he saw it. It fueled the almost graceful arch of Peter's neck as he took a pull off the bottle in his hand, and gave him the confidence to shove a nearby gawker who sneered at they walked passed, knocking him on his ass. The coffee table broke his fall, splitting in half.

He should run to her, beg her to stay. But he was too frightened to move.

The door clicking shut snapped Toki out of his fearful paralysis. He shoved passed Pickles and Nathan, past party goers towards the door. He had thought he had been the picture of serenity simply because he felt numb. But when Pickles cut in front of him, holding him back with his hands on his shoulders, the drummer lost his words. He had been poised to say something, but he abandoned it in favor of: "Are you cryin'?"

"He going to hurts her," Toki said, pushing away Pickles hands and passed him towards the door. "I sees it in his face, I knows that looks. My dads, he get same looks..."

Pickles grabbed his wrist as if he were a wayward child. "There's nothin' we can do, Toki. Let them go." Toki jerked his hand away and walked faster. He flung open the door and stepped out onto the concrete walkway. He gripped the rusty iron railing, searching the street from his perch—before noticing that they hadn't even made it down the stairs to his right yet. Jessica spared him a brief glance as she walked. Toki's gaze dropped to his knuckles when he Peter fixed his glare on him.

"The fuck you want, Romeo?" Peter shouted, his voice echoing across the complex. "You want to go kiss your boyfriend goodbye?" He gave Jessica's shoulder a shove, making her have to catch herself on the hand rail as she lost her footing on the narrow steps. She did not acknowledge Peter at all, as if she had merely misstepped. "You give it up for that faggy little piece of Eurotrash?" He shoved her again.

Toki watched them helplessly as they walked to the cherry red Impala parked across the street. He should be saying something. He should be doing something. But his body wouldn't move again, just as his voice wouldn't work. All he could manage was to witness their terrible march.

She fished a set of keys out of the front pocket of her backpack.

"Give them over," Peter said.

"How much did you have to drink?" She asked calmly as he took another pull off the bottle of whiskey.

"Not your fucking business."

"Just let me drive, ok? You can turn on the radio and—" He grabbed her wrist in one hand, and pried at her fingers around the keys with the other. "Daddy, you can't dr—" All he did was raise his hand to her. She reflexively raised her arms and dropped the keys, cowering away from him. Peter scooped them up.

Toki should have run down the steps and threw himself between them, maybe say something like: "Picks on someones you own size!" Instead he just continued to watch, tears trailing down his face uselessly.

"Cut it out, Pete!" Pickles yelled. Toki hadn't heard him come out, but watched as Pickles leaned against the rail to his left.

Peter gave Pickles the finger with both hands as Jessica shook her head, saying softly:

"Daddy, please, just let me drive..."

He shoved his finger in her face as he talked to her lowly, his face red and spittle punctuating his words.

Nathan fell in next to Pickles. "If I see you hit her, I'll kick your ass so hard I'll be wearing you as a boot!"

A hand touched between his shoulders, not a comfort, but an acknowledgment. Skwisgaar didn't dare touch the rusty rail, likely out of fear of staining his white clothes, but he stood to Toki's right, watching the scene with his usual bland disinterest.

"We kin't help her, Toki," Pickles said quietly. "We'll step in if we have to. We can even call the cops, but don't be thinkin' we're gonna save her. _She left with 'im, Toki_. She left knowin' what he was feelin' jus' as much as you did." His voice rose with what he said next, and Toki knew Pickles was talking to her just as much as he was talking to him. "She doesn't _have_ ta go home with him. She sees us standin' up here. She knows she kin ask fer help. If she wants it."

Toki had hoped she'd come running back up the steps. Instead, she continued to plead with her father. He grabbed her by the back of her neck, and corralled her to the passengers side door. But when he opened it and tried to push her inside, she pushed against the frame with her hands, still protesting.

"I can't watch any more..." Nathan said, cracking his knuckles. He stepped away from the railing, towards the stairs. "We can't be heroes, but I can make him eat his fucking teeth."

"Nathans, do yous reallys think she's lets yous?" Skwisgaar asked. "She more likelys to testipie against _yous_ than hims." That didn't make a lick of sense to Toki, but before he could say anything, his attention was diverted back across the street.

" _You're going to kill us!_ " Jessica's screech snapped the last of Peter's restraint. He flung her to the ground and slammed the door shut. The car blocking their view, Toki heard rather than saw Peter's clenched fist smashing down on her, once, twice... Toki couldn't see her or where he hit, but the blows were quick and hard, and each tearing an involuntary scream from her. After the last he screamed back: " _ **SHUT THE FUCK UP**_!"

"HEY!" Nathan shouted, any consideration of Skwisgaar's warning slipping away.

"Fucking stay here. They can run a train on you for all I care!" When Peter noticed Nathan coming down the stairs, he raced back to the drivers side of the car and climbed in. The radio was turned up to full volume as he threw the car into drive. Jessica began screaming again as he peeled out of the parking space; her face was swollen where Peter had punched her, blood dripping from her hair line, but that wasn't what made Toki dizzy and cold. Peter had driven over her right leg. Even across the street Toki could see bone jutting out of her shin.

Peter made a wide u-turn with the Impala, the engine roaring like a wrathful lion, and tore out into traffic on the highway.

Right in front of an 18 wheeler.

There was a sound like a million aluminum cans crumpling at once as the rig crashed into the drivers door of the Impala, its nose rending metal and glass as it buried in its side.

"Ho shit, oh fuck!" Pickles ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time, Skwisgaar close behind him.

"Someone call 9-1-1!" Toki hadn't been aware of Murderface standing behind them until he flung open the apartment door and shouted to the people inside. Someone shouted back gibberish. "I'M FUCKING SERIOUS!" He hastily shoved himself into the apartment, likely towards the phone hanging on the wall in the kitchenette.

Toki stood there, shaking. He needed to be brave, needed to be a _fucking man_...

A man wouldn't cry. Telling himself this only seemed to make the tears come faster, and drained all the strength from his limbs. He crumpled, falling to his knees, his fingers holding the railing limply. His head swam as he hiccoughed; he felt so confused and overwhelmed that he wasn't even sure what was happening anymore.

Toki startled when Nathan placed his hand on his head. He was on the cusp of fainting, so disoriented that he hadn't noticed him come back up the stairs. He unclenched his fingers from the railing and wrapped his arms desperately around Nathan's leg.

"Everything's going to be, uh...everything's... oh fuck." Toki looked up at him, and then followed his gaze across the street. Pickles sat on the side walk behind Jessica, holding her to his chest as she wailed. He had taken off his shirt and was pressing it to where her head bled. "Don't look at it!" he shouted. " _ **Don't look at it**_!"

Skwisgaar walked back towards the walkway from the wreckage, his fingers laced behind his head with twitchy, adrenaline fueled apprehension. He looked up at Nathan, his face as white as his shirt when he shook his head.

Toki realized the destroyed Impala on the road was where Jessica's eyes were glued, not to her mangled leg. Skwisgaar snapped back around when the screams started, staring wide eyed at the wreckage. "That's unpossibles... too much bloods... he crushed..."

Some good samaritan who was helping the rig driver out of the cab noticed Peter, yelled:

"Holy shit, he's ali—"

The explosion sounded like a shot gun blast, the flare of orange flame sending both men toppling to the asphalt singed, and silencing Peter once and for all.

Toki's vision grew dim as he wobbled. He fell backwards, passing out cold.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Is it out of character for Dethklok to give a fuck about anything other than the music and act like normal human beings? Yeah, probably. This chapter is fueled by my head-canon: before the band got big and famous they weren't _quite_ as sociopathic. This is mostly based on Tributeklok and parts of DSR. Fame isolates people and wears down their empathy, and in both they kinda acknowledge this.

I had a beta reader say they all seemed kind of cold _anyway_. What Skwisgaar said to Nathan actually happened to a friend of my ex. He noticed this guy beating up on his girlfriend, punched the fucker, and both the guy and his girlfriend tried to get him for assault. Even if I'm not making them the dickbags they are in the show, I still imagine them to be hella jaded and see this kind of shit all the time in scummy bars.


	3. We're Moving On

**AN:** I have way too much fun writing Dethklok dialogue. I refuse to apologize.

* * *

Toki had woken up on his bed, startled out of his sleep by the frenetic beat of "Water Horsey Blues". Almost as soon as it started playing, Pickles began squawking:

"This isn' funny Murderface! Turn it off now!" The music gave way to silence. "Ya play that again, 'n...we'll have words."

"I have two words for you: blow me."

Pickles sighed heavily. "What ever dude..."

"So you will?" Murderface chuckled.

"I will make ya eat that knife if ya don' stop talkin' to me right now."

"I don't get why you're complaining. You asked me to wake Toki up. I probably did."

The bedroom didn't have any windows. He didn't know how long he had been asleep. At first Toki thought that the car accident must have been a dream. He had fallen asleep as Jessica did her homework, and she must have made her exit as he napped.

The handout was on the floor next to Skwisgaar's bed, and in his pockets were a crumpled pamphlet and two foil wrapped condoms. Did he smell smoke? Was that the car wreck?

Adrenaline urged him to his feet. He stumbled out of his room and into the hall. Nathan was pulling containers of left over Chinese takeout out of the fridge. Murderface was stabbing the wall with his knife aimlessly. Pickles sat on the couch, his head in his hands as he smoked a joint, the singed skunk-smell filling the apartment. From the sounds of things, Skwisgaar was in the bathroom with a lady friend.

He was getting really into it, making this weird "huh, huh, huh" noise as their bodies slapped together. Toki thought pettily that he sounded like a cat throwing up.

Pickles looked up as Toki drew near. "Jessica?" he asked. "What happen to hers?"

Pickles blinked at him blearily. "Who?"

"Red hairs, tiny skirt... She tell mes her names was Jessica, Jessica Rabbit."

Pickles smirked, shaking his head. "She was pullin' one over on ya. Makin' a joke." He took a drag off his joint and held it out to Toki. Toki held up his hands, shaking his head as Pickles blew the thick smoke out his nostrils. "Her name's Anita, Annie, something like that. I could never remember. Never called her that. I haven't seen her since she was thiiiiiiiis high." He held out his hand, waist height. "Or maybe this high?" He raised his hand higher. "Ginger Snap got hit up with some nice sedatives, and then she went 'bye bye' to the hospital." Pickles stretched and then slumped back down on the couch. "Can't ride in an ambulance unless yer family...didn't know that."

"She alright though?" Toki asked, wringing his hands.

"She's alive and kickin'," Pickles said, his shoulders rising and falling. "Broken leg, so maybe not so much kickin'. Goin' ta need some stitches. Other than that..." He sighed. Even his frowns seemed cocked to the side, much like his smirks. Toki waited for him to say more, but he didn't. As Toki turned away, he heard him mutter: "Everyone's better off that he's gone. 'cept maybe for her."

Toki didn't know where he was walking. He just sort of ended up at the counter and bent over it, resting on his elbows, not thinking much of anything. Even though everything Pickles said had been a relief, he still felt shaky and worried.

Nathan slid a container half full of cold lo men towards him. He was numb, and sick with anxiety, but not too sick as to turn up his nose to the comfort of a full belly. As he ate, rational thought seemed to return to him. Jessica was hurt, but she was ok! Her stupid dad was probably way worse off that she was. Toki hoped both his arms broke, so he could never hit her again...

As he was scraping the last little noodle out of the bottom with his fork, some one knocked at the door.

"Fuck off!" Murderface yelled. The door hadn't been latched, and was pushed open with a single finger tip. A real nerdy looking guy in a suit and glasses stood in the doorway, framed by sunlight, a briefcase in hand. He let his eyes adjust to the dim light, and stepped inside.

"Good morning, gentlemen." Murderface drove his knife into the wall and walked up to him. He belched loudly in his face. The nerdy guy winced away, but his eyebrow was cocked over an otherwise neutral face. "Good to see you too, William."

Murderface scoffed and went back to his knife. He yanked it out and resumed stabbing the wall. The nerdy guy walked through the empty cups and bottles littering the floor as if he were uncertain exactly what they were. He sat down on the couch, next to Pickles.

"I did some digging around. I managed to get ahold of her uncle. When I explained to him what happened he was more than willing to step forward to take her in," he murmured. Pickles only nodded, gazing at his navel. "My cousin is a detective down at the police station. I got her to run a background check. This guy and his wife are clean, both employed. Good people." The nerdy guy paused, thinking of how to phrase what he said next: "The chapter's closed. You can move on." Pickles nodded. The nerdy guy stood.

Toki thought he might leave then, but the nerdy guy's gaze landed on him. Toki watched him distrustfully. He had never seen someone dressed like that outside of sitcoms and movies. He was obviously a square, sent to badger them to toe the line or something. The nerdy guy approached him, extending a hand. Toki frowned down at it. "You must be Toki, Magnus Hammersmith's replacement. I'm Charles Offdenson. I'm the bands...manager, I guess."

"Yous guess?" Toki tried to sneer, but he didn't have it in him. It sounded more like a weary sigh. Charles lowered his hand.

"He gave me drum lessons after Snakes 'N Barrells broke up. 'pparently he went ta law school 'er some shit. Didn't stop him from livin' in his parent's basement with a drum kit and delusions of grandeur." Charles frowned then, squinting over his shoulder at Pickles. "When Crystal Mountain Records came knockin' on our door I remembered seeing his law license hangin' next to a Blammy Razzamataz poster. If that doesn't say classy I don't know what does. Any who, he seemed like the guy to ask about contracts 'n shit. He's a bit of a robot, but he's ok I guess..."

"He's been helping us not get fucked in the ass by big wig record execs," Nathan said. "Helping us through meetings, dressing us, reminding us not to punch people. You know, the usual stuff."

Pickles exhaled a big cloud of smoke. "Son of a bitch is handin' out the advance in little bits at a time. Doesn't trust us."

"No," Charles toed an empty beer bottle. "I really do not. And that's not something you can make me feel guilty about." Charles stepped passed Toki to put his brief case down on the counter and snap it open. "Since you're the soberest legal adult, I will hand this weeks allowance over to you, Nathan." Toki's eyes grew wide when he saw the thick stack of twenties Charles slide across the counter. That had to be maybe five hundred dollars! He had never seen so much money in person! "Can you promise me you're not going to spend it all on alcohol?"

"Uhh..." Nathan looked down at the stack. His gaze met Charles. "No. No I cannot."

"You remember what happened last time you spent it all on alcohol?"

Nathan paused. "...We didn't eat?"

"You didn't eat. For five days. Please show a little restraint."

Nathan sighed heavily. "Sorry. Can't. We have to throw Toki another party. The last one kinda went to shit, so we're going to try again."

"Can Jessica come too?" Toki asked, hopeful. "She just have broken leg, right? It can bes her parties too." Nathan grit his teeth, wincing. He halved the stack of bills, and slid it back to Charles.

"You can have that if you take care of this. I've been feeling this weird ache in my chest, and thinking about how to answer his question is making it worse. It started last night. I think I might be sick..."

"Those might be emotions, Nathan," Charles said.

"Ugh. Gross. We have a cure for that around here somewhere..." Nathan said. He picked up a half empty bottle of Johnny Walker and started chugging.

Charles put a hand on Toki's shoulder. He took a deep breath, sighed, and explained.

* * *

The guys had thrown another party like Nathan had promised. Toki had tried to stay locked in his room, too sad to do anything but hold Deady Bear and stare at the wall. He wasn't sorry Peter was dead. But he felt terrible that Jessica had to see it happen. His own father had left more scars on his body than he cared to count, but when he imagined himself in her place, he felt nothing but sorrow.

Pickles and Skwisgaar couldn't abide by his moping. They had taken him under his arms and hauled him out to the kitchenette. Again he found himself with a beer in his hand. The five of them stood in a circle.

"Here's ta Toki. We've got a real good feelin' about ya, kid." Pickles raised his beer. The others clinked their bottles against his. "Now lets get shit faced." They all tossed their drinks back, chugging as fast as they could. Toki looked down at his beer.

Well. Here went nothing.

He tossed his back too. The beer was mildly bitter and hoppy, but it didn't taste bad. He hadn't expected the bubbles. It was kinda like soda. By the time the others finished, Toki was only half done. Skwisgaar tilted his drink up higher, making the others cheer Toki on as well as making him have to drink even faster.

When he drained the last of it he belched, his heady feeling kinda woozy. "I was kind of expecting him to throw up there," Murderface said, the others chuckling. "Good job keeping it down, kiddo!" The compliment from Murderface felt too simpering to be comfortable, but Toki smiled. Jessica—Anita, or what ever her name was—seemed to melt away, as did the drama that followed her. Nothing seemed to matter but that moment, standing there in the kitchen with his new pals.

Unlike the previous night, everyone waited until they were good and hammered before drifting off into their own directions. After paling around in the kitchen, Pickles and Nathan began mingling, relating gig horror stories to a captive audience.

Murderface stayed in the kitchenette, talking on the phone merrily, a finger plugged in his ear to silence the party. Skwisgaar took girls to their room, though Toki couldn't say how many. He stopped counting after three. In between each, he'd sit down next to Toki on the couch, drunkly proclaim, "You ams rocks stars, yous little bitch!" and pinch his cheek. The last time he hugged him, and sloppily kissed Toki's forhead.

Before Toki could worry that something gay was about to happen, Skwisgaar stood and walked back towards the bedroom. He touched a girl on the arm as he walked by. When she turned to look at him, he crooked his finger at her over his shoulder, not bothering to stop. She looked him up and down, before excusing herself from her conversation and following Skwisgaar.

It couldn't be that easy. It just couldn't. Toki stood up. He was somewhere near sober again, but still feeling pretty good. He looked around the party, trying to find the prettiest girl.

 _I shouldn'ts do this... Jessica..._ was he ever going to see her again, though? Charles had said she was going to live with her uncle, very far away. Even if she wasn't, she made it very clear that she didn't want to hump. _But that kiss..._

He shook his head when he felt the tears welling in his eyes, urging them away. The guys were throwing this party because they wanted him to have a good time. Instead of dwelling on things that he couldn't fix, he should be living it up.

He approached a chick with a hard body barely contained by a leather cocktail dress, and a painted on face. He tapped her on the shoulder and crooked his finger at her.

She laughed.

And laughed.

And laughed.

People were starting to stare now.

Pickles came up behind him and ruffled his hair. "Hey Toki, how ya enjoying the party?" Given his public embarrassment, that was the stupidest question anyone could have asked.

"It... it great, Pickle..." Toki tried to be cheery. He sipped sullenly at the beer in his hand.

"By the look a ya, it could be greater."

"Oh my God, Pickles..." the girl was breathless with admiration. "I loved Snakes 'N Barrels. I have all your albums!" Toki hadn't heard of Snakes N' Barrels until that moment. He knew the guys had been in other bands, but he hadn't payed enough attention to music outside of the Norwegian Death Metal scene to realize how prestigious their accomplishments were.

"I go by Pickles _the drummer_ now," Pickles corrected. "Unless we're friends, ya gotta say the whole thing."

"Sorta like The Artist Formerly Known As Prince?" The girl smiled, intent on making this into a conversation. Pickles slid his arm around Toki's shoulder and turned him away from her and to a pink-haired cheer leader type wearing a dog-collar.

"Hot girl, I would like to introduce you to Dethklok's rhythm guitarist, Toki. Toki, I would like to introduce you to this hot girl." He pushed Toki towards her. "Skwisgaar picked 'im out. You know, that guy from Agnostic Priest?" The girl had already been eyeing Pickles like he was some vision from a dream; at Skwisgaar's name she pressed a hand to her chest in awe. "Yeah, said he never played with anyone so talented." When her eyes fell on Toki, he expected the expression to diminish, but it did not.

Getting from there to the bathroom seemed like blur of entangling limbs.

* * *

Pickles kicked the corner of Toki's mattress to wake him.

Toki had felt amazing the previous night, as if nothing had mattered except the party. Not his parents kicking him out, not that dildo getting hit by the 18 wheeler. Just him and his pals being young and reckless.

That morning when he woke up, though, he had a migraine like someone had kicked him in the back of the head and his mouth tasted like stale beer and vomit.

The two condoms "Jessica" had given him were still untouched.

The pink-haired girl had kissed him breathless and then offered to give him head. He had panicked at first, images of decapitated heads dancing in his mind, but then she had pulled down his pants and showed him exactly what she meant.

He had left the bathroom moony-eyed with his arm around her. His hand could not compare to her mouth; it was like jacking off ten times at once! Maybe if he played his cards right, he'd get round two... He offered to get her a beer.

When he came back, he found she had disappeared.

With Nathan, according to Skwisgaar.

Into his bed room.

"That's the sluts for yous," Skwisgaar had said. "You had good times, right? That alls that matter."

Toki had sighed. The kissing had been amazing, and the hugging. And what she did with her mouth was just... wowee. He had a very good time. But now he felt used. Thrown away like a dirty sock. Did all she want from him was his dick?

"Yes," Skwisgaar had told him flatly. "Here little secrets: All sluts cares about ams being fucked."

"That...that don't bothers yous?" Toki asked, his gaze drawn to Nathan's door.

"Hard to gets too angriest about it when that's all what I wants too." Skwisgaar gave his back a friendly slap.

Looking up at Pickles, Toki felt confusing guilt, as if he shouldn't have let that pink haired girl give him a head when Annie, Anita, what ever her name was, was laying in the hospital.

He tried to push it away. He barely knew her! And! She had told him she didn't want to hump. She had saw his erection and had _moved away_ from him. The pink haired girl had been all too happy to touch it, excited for it as if his dick was a handsomely wrapped gift.

Even though the pink haired girl went with Nathan, she had treated him far nicer than "Jessica" had. She had giggled and only said things to him like: "Cool!", "Wow!", and "You're sooo interesting!". She made him feel like a rockstar, and Jessica treated him like...like...a normal jack off.

Sluts were fucking fantastic, and he didn't know how he lived without them. It felt like a new world was open to him. Girls would give him orgasms whenever he wanted, and all he had to do was say he was in a band!

When Pickles asked if he wanted to go visit Annie (so her name really was Annie after all...) in the hospital, Toki told him: "No thanks yous."

But as the door shut behind him, scenes from the end of the first party flashed in his minds eye. Her showing him her Deady Bear folder. How she sat patiently on the bed with him, explaining everything he needed to know to keep his dick from turning gangrenous black and falling off. Jumping on the bed to fool Skwisgaar into thinking Toki and her were humping...

And that kiss...

The pink haired girl had kissed him only because of his pals. Annie kissed him in spite of that. She liked who _he_ was, not his (apparently famous) friends.

His thoughts kept flashing by like an avalanche.

All that dildo Peter had to do was raise his hand to frighten her into dropping the keys, and beneath his incapacitating fear for her Toki had felt sick to his stomach knowing he would have reacted just the same way. His own father had made sure of it.

Again, he thought of himself in her place. No matter how much Toki feared his parents, when he imagined them screaming in the crumpled Impala instead of Peter he felt choked with sadness. God, if just imagining it was bad, what must she be feeling right now?

He got to his feet and chased after Pickles.

* * *

Charles had picked them up in a well cared for, but still depressingly old, station wagon. Toki sat in the back next to a vase of red roses and blue irises. Pickles had taken shot gun, immediately rolling down the window before lighting up a joint.

"You're just going to go ahead and smoke that right out in the open, aren't you?" Charles asked.

Pickles took a long drag and blew the plume of smoke out the window. "Yup."

"I got a card for you to sign. You're sitting on it."

As Charles threw the car into gear Pickles fished under his rear. "A teddy bear?"

"Deady Bear," Toki corrected from the back seat.

"She's not fuckin' five," Pickles grumbled.

"She had a poster in her room, and a stuffed one on her bed," Charles said. Pickles gave Toki a shifty glance, he hesitated, then asked:

"You went over there?"

"I did a quick sweep. It was clean."

That was all that was said for the entire drive.

* * *

The odd conversation had dogged Toki until they got to the hospital. He instantly forgot about it as they stepped through the front door. It smelled like disinfectant, but there was a subtle hint of an unflushed toilet; the opposite of "Mord Haus". The halls were stark and forbidding, but when they got to Annie's room she had the curtains open, letting in the sunshine. The natural light made the room seem welcoming, bringing in life that the rest of the building lacked.

A young woman in blue scrubs sat in a chair across the room, reading a book.

"Are yous the doctor?" Toki asked. The woman scoffed, not looking up from her book.

"No. I'm a sitter. The doctor doesn't want her left alone. They're afraid she's going to slit her wrists or something, even though they gave her enough Ativan to knock out the entire psych ward." Charles made a small, perturbed noise in the back of his throat. Even though Toki was unaware that such details were supposed to be confidential, Charles wasn't. "I don't know if she's going to wake up for you. You can try, though."

She wasn't hooked up to anything, though she still had a stint in her hand. It rested on her chest, rising and falling as she slept. A rectangle of hair was shaved away near her right temple, where a line of stitches puckered the skin. She was wearing a hospital gown, and her cast-encased leg was elevated in a sling. Her right eye was swollen and purple, looking almost corpse like.

They all just stood there, looking down at her.

Picking up on the fact that the men were all as emotionally adept as paperweights, the sitter put down her book and came up to the bedside. She rubbed a hand up and down Annie's arm soothingly. "Hey sweetie, you got some people here to see you. You wanna wake up?"

Annie sighed in her sleep, but she didn't stir. The sitter tried again, but this time Annie just lay still and peaceful. She shrugged and went back to her seat.

"Hey Ginger Snap. Don't know if ya can hear me, but we brought you some flowers," Pickles said, putting the vase down on her night stand. "Despite having a fucker of a dad yer a pretty ok kid. But... with that said... I'm sorry things happened they way they did. I'm sorry he... you know... died."

Pickles put the card down next to the flowers. "If ya wanna keep in touch, I wrote Charles's number in there. That's the only way yer 100% guaranteed to get ahold of me." Pickles said. "You can read it when you're not so tired."

Pickles had said his peace. He stepped away, Charles following.

Even though she was unconscious, Toki hugged her tight. She groaned blearily, but didn't wake. "I knows you sads right nows, but I hopes when yous feel betters yous know that he was wrongs to hurt you so badly. He should have gives you nothings but hugs, and nice clothes. Not stitches ands bruises." When he pulled back he said: "I haves somethings for yous," and pulled one of the gold-wrapped condoms out of his pocket.

Pickles pinched the bridge of his nose. "Toki, what. The hell. She's _unconscious_. If ya pull out yer dick, I'm gonna pull it _off_."

"Yous gives me twos. I keeps one and yous keeps one. That ways, we still remembers each others, ok?"

"I think a friendship bracelet would be more appropriate..." Charles said, cringing. "Maybe we can find you one in the gift shop..."

Toki tucked the condom into her hand, closing her fingers over it. "I hopes you to stay sweets, too."

He also hoped that when she woke up, she would call. But he spent so much of his life having his hopes crushed that he knew better than to expect it.

And he had been right.

The sitter didn't say anything, but she recognized Pickles. She was nothing more insidious than a fangirl, but after they left, she stole the card. Nothing would come from Pickles's gesture other than a restraining order against the over eager Snakes 'N Barrels enthusiast.

That would be the last Toki saw of Annie for ten years.

* * *

Author's Note: I've been agonizing over this chapter. I'm not happy with it, but I don't know if I ever will be. So I'm posting it anyway.

In case anyone missed it, the chapters and story title are a reference to Galaktikon. That album is just so unf.

Head-canon of Charles as a drummer comes from Rehabklok. Charles is one of the random people Pickles imagines will replace him in the bed. Random note, I also have a head-canon of Pickles being a trans-man from that episode, which I'm (barely) resisting incorporating into my plot. He had no dick and no balls. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that information?


End file.
